Devon Ray
Full Name: '''Devon Ray '''Biological Origin: '''Live Birth '''Estimated Age: '''25 '''Known Relations: None living Place of Birth: Squatter Settlement, long since relocated/destroyed Faction: Uncommited CHOTA Height: 5' 5" Weight: '''121 lbs '''Eyes: '''Sienna Brown '''Hair: Black ---- 'Background: '''Devon is a One-Lifer (or God-Child as they are sometimes referred to by city folk), born in a small squatter community in Sector One. Her Mother, perpetually strung out and barely able to carry her baby, was as surprised as the rest of the community that Devon survived her first few months of the hell that is life in the Wastes. Devon never knew her Father. She remembers very little about her Mother who finally gave in to death when Devon was about 4 or 5 years old. Devon was taken in and raised by one of the community “Elders”, a man known only as Ray (who in his early 40’s and blessed with some mechanical skill was considered a valuable elder), a man who’s name she would adopt in her young adulthood as a way of honoring the only person who, in her words, “...ever gave a good goddamn about me”. Devon’s natural knack for survival complimented by Ray’s guidance in her formative years kept her alive against all odds. When the community broke up when Devon was about 12, Ray took her with him, wandering from town to town, never settling down, but staying as long as there was a little work to be had and a little water to spare for them. When Ray became ill and died when she was about 15, Devon carried his body a quarter mile by herself and buried him with her bare hands by the side of some old railroad tracks. She took his belt, his boots and a shirt of his, which she still uses to this day as a rag to wipe down her vehicle and hardware. Devon likes to think Ray would be proud of her for surviving as long as she has, though she does her best not to dwell on the life she’s lead and the things she’s done in order to survive since being on her own. ---- Resourceful, but not quite cunning, ruthless but not quite heartless, Devon has lived one day at a time her entire life, even when there was very little to live for. Hope, human history, self-reflection and contemplation are frivolities in her world. And though Ray taught her to read and to write she rarely stretches her above-average wit beyond reading maps, road signs and tattered instruction manuals. Devon is not easy to befriend to say the least and is guarded if not full-on suspicious of just about everyone she meets, not for any degree of paranoia, rather for her simply dominating survival instincts. She’s a crack shot with small handguns and is an efficient and remorseless killer in close quarters, able to defend herself with anything she can get her hands on, be it an empty rifle, lawnmower blade, or a pair of pliars. ---- While not mechanically inclined by nature, she learned her skills well from Ray and stays in regular practice, tinkering with and repairing weapons and small engines whenever they are available. Creature comforts are almost entirely alien to her. She is more comfortable sleeping on hard ground than a mattress and finds that prepared foods settle less easily in her stomach than simple and crude travel foods. Devon is particularly biased against strange men, is completely ill at ease around “domesticated” Blight Wolves, and she will never, ever enter a tunnel alone that isn’t large enough for her to ride her bike through. She has only ever really been close to one person, her namesake, though Devon Ray has recently come to appreciate the kindness and casual companionship of a handful of Wastelanders she’s met in Oilville and New Flagstaff. A typical quote from Devon Ray: “I got two rules. Rule number one... don’t fuck with Rotters. Rule number'' two......obey all the rules.” Full bio in jpg format here . Category:Player Character